A feast of caps and gowns
by kijefa
Summary: A story of love overcoming differences in circumstance, values, and oceans to entangle two dissimilar people in a life of mischief and compassion. - a Tom Hiddleston story.
1. Chapter 1

As Harriet walked through the halls, the boys in their caps and gowns nodding politely towards her but with those mischievous grins on their faces, she felt her father's disapproving voice ring in her mind. What was she doing there? This wasn't what she had set out to do. In fact it was quite the opposite. Never in her dreams of educating the world did she see herself standing in a hall of some of the wealthiest and most highly esteemed people in Britain, in the world. Princes, knights, philosophers, and all kinds of great men had walked these halls and now she stood with the pile of folders in her hands amazed at the elaborately designed hallway that she was now moving through. Her classes were set from the day she walked through the doors. The headmaster had warned her about the boys' behaviour and their shenanigans and they hadn't dreamed of disappointing her by not being brats.

Harriet had been raised to believe that if you wanted to make a difference in the world you had to help those that couldn't help themselves. She had dedicated her life to investing time and energy into helping the little guy, giving them a chance at success in life, getting kids out of those awful situations they were born into and giving them hope for the future. She had thought herself the rescuer, the saviour, the only one who could do it. It had become a self-righteous act for Harriet. She had become so much like the hero from her favourite stories that she hadn't thought of herself as someone that needed helping. She was the one that helped others, not the other way round. It had taken a heartbreak, quitting her job, and the loss of her closest friend to make her realise that she had become the pompous snob that she had desperately been trying to avoid. It was a snobbery that could only be countered with an act of betrayal of ideals. She needed humbling again, she needed to find the humanity in the people she detested, and she desperately needed to get away. Thus, she chose the one place she could think that would make her feel like she had nothing.

The email was there when she had arrived home from her last day at work. An offer from Eton to come and join their teaching staff for a year. She had written to them asking to be taken on board with the credentials of a peasant from the colonies and as someone who was in desperate need of a sea change. The oceans that now separated her from her home, her family, and the people she adored was at some times unbearable but she took solace in the fact that she was going squeeze every bit of juice from this job. Her life was now here, in these hallowed halls where princes and politicians had trained to rule the world. The culture shock had worn off over the last few months of her being there. At first the theatrics were a little overwhelming. The students had tried their very best to break her but her resilience and sense of humour was close to unshakeable as they soon discovered and her intolerance for crassness weeded out the hormonal charges from her classroom and into the playground instead. The boys knew her now. Her stories of rural life in Australia amused them to no end and her ability to relate whatever tangent they had tried to persuade her along back to the topic of the day was artful. There was a softness and humour to her that made the boys warm to her teaching methods and style, so much so that after two months the headmaster called her into his office. She was terrified, naturally, as being summoned was not the norm for the teachers in the school. Her colleagues assured her that it couldn't be anything bad but Harriet thought of all the worst possible scenarios as the time of her meeting drew near. She needn't have worried, it was all praise. A few of the gentlemen in her senior classes had mentioned her success in the classroom to their parents and the positive feedback had reached the headmaster with several phone calls enquiring after her. From then on it had been a challenge to live up to the expectation and praise. But there was always the one or two boys who knew how to get under her defences and mount a brutal attack on her sensibilities.

Harriet's black gown swept past her feet as she strode down the hall of the main building towards the administration office. She was late for the staff meeting as she had been reprimanding another one of these elitist, entitled, spiteful snobs. She was still fuming from the humiliation she had held down inside her whilst in the class. Her breath caught in her throat as she thought about the disrespect she had been shown. Back home she knew when the kids misbehaved it was because they either didn't know better or something horrid was happening in the child's home life. At Eton it was because they _thought_ they knew better that they spoke down to her. She had tried keeping her sense of humour about her but some days it was just lamentable.

She pushed the heavy wooden door open and stepped through into the staff common room for the meeting. The room was filled with the staff from all the different faculties in the school and she spotted Julie sitting on the edge of the room and moved towards the seat besides her. Julie gave her a half smile as she approached and then turned her attention back to the head master who was giving another one of his famous rants on correct etiquette towards the students. Julie had been the first person to approach Harriet as a friend at Eton and had become her closest companion and mentor over the time she had been there. She was kindhearted and had also taken a job at Eton for moral purposes, although they weren't any where near as personal as Harriet's had been. Julie had felt an urge to counsel the young men that tended towards political, business and leadership roles in the correct manner in which to treat those around you. She taught History as her main subject area but took every opportunity to instruct the gentlemen in her care to behave in a manner that wouldn't make their grandmothers cringe with disgust. She was very good at it too, not one of the boys in her class ever had a bad word to say about her or her classes.

"This year, as many of you know and all of you should," the headmaster started as Harriet took her seat, "is Eton's biannual Alma Mater festival. It is a week long celebration of those who have come before and who have gone on to achieve great things. This year we will be ending the celebration with a black tie ball. We need several faculty members to organise and arrange for the celebration. I have nominated Mr. O'Keefe and Mrs. Allan to head up the organising committee but I need some volunteers to organise this event. It will be a lot of work and we will need dedicated and hard working people to ensure it is run professionally and smoothly."

Harriet could see the headmaster looking straight at her and she tried to avoid his gaze with no such luck.

"Um, I'd be honoured to help arrange the ball, sir," Harriet said in as normal a voice as she could muster. His smile sent a shiver down her spine, his gaze moving towards her bust rather than her eyes and making her feel just as uncomfortable as the first day she met him. In such a large school she hadn't been required to see him often but every time she felt like she needed to wash the stare off her.

A few more staff volunteered and a date was set for their first meeting, along with their specific roles in the organising of the event. Julie pulled her aside after the staff meeting and looked into her eyes suspiciously.

"You do realise who one of the main speakers for the festival is right? Every festival they have at least three of the Alma Mater return and be the guests of honour. Each has to present a speech at one of the events. It's a big deal and they only request successful previous students. And do you know who this years is?" she asked in a concerned but excited voice.

"No, I don't really know anything about it. Australian, remember? Don't much care for the school and its past inhabitants? You do know who you are addressing, right?" Harriet questioned her friend cheekily as they moved towards the exit of the staffroom, shuffling behind the other teachers who were eager to go home for the day.

"Oh my gosh Harry! You are going to lose it. And especially being assigned as the relationships manager of the event. Oh golly gosh!"

"What is…wait, did you just say 'golly gosh'"?

"Shut up. It's a British thing," Julie replied as she took Harriet's arm in hers and walked her outside into the large courtyard that made Harriet feel like she was at Hogwarts. The stone walls raised towards the sky surrounded them in a grand fashion revealing a bright, clear day. Harriet sighed, for once a beautiful day that reminded her of home, a slight chill to the air but the warmth of the sun shining onto the freshly cut grass.

"So who is this mysterious Alma Mater guest speaker?" Harriet said giving into her curiosity.

"Oh, it's no one really. Just the love of your fantasy life." Julie replied, trying unsuccessfully to hold in her grin.

"No."

"Oh yes."

"Not him."

"Yes, I'm afraid so. Most unfortunate, really."

"Please tell me you are joking! Jules! Please tell me it is not Tom Hiddleston!"

"Oh but it is." Julie laughed as she turned to Harriet and hugged her.

Harriet felt her entire body sink into utter joy and a sudden feeling of horror overwhelmed her at the thought that she would actually have to deal with the man she had idolised for so long. Her mind swam with emotion as Julie pulled her towards the exit of the school and away from her fantasy towards reality.


	2. Chapter 2

When she was back home there was only a few people she trusted with her true self. One had lied to her, one had cheated her, and one had left her. Each had their own reasons for doing so, but for Harriet it was now the core of all her relationships. She didn't let anyone in without difficulty, and if she did let them in it was never in too deeply. Her heart had been broken far too often by friends and lovers for her to trust someone so easily again. It was because of this reason that being the relationships manager for large events came naturally to her. She had perfected the art of performance. She had created a persona that could present the best possible self out there and feel genuine but not really have any connection with people. It was a science for Harriet, collecting data and feeding the subject what it required to get the most advantageous outcome for the school and for them. It wasn't that she used people but rather than she tended to their needs so she could protect herself from future heartache.

Harriet instead found consolation and comfort in fictional characters. She would watch the same movies over and over again and read the same books multiple times. She found comfort in comic books because the characters never changed, not really, even over decades of writing they were the same old superheroes fighting to save the world. She loved characters and knew what they were like, she knew how it all ended and so could trust in their companionship. The consistency and loyalty made her love her fantasy world more than the real world. It also made her a solitary and lonely person for the majority of her life. Her quiet nature and her love of fiction made the real world a daunting place to venture into. And yet she was able to stand in front of twenty-plus young men every day and teach them the importance of literature and guide them to learn about grammar and literary form. She was a performer, an actor, and a teacher all rolled into one. She had discovered her own character and moved into their form when she stepped in front of an audience. Harriet felt that her outward appearance and actions was never really her but only part of what and who she was.

When the time came for Harriet and the rest of the staff to start organising the Black Tie Ball for the Alma Mater festival, Mr. O'Keefe had called the team to meet in the staff meeting room for a Wednesday after school session.

"We have a list of guests who need to be invited. Harriet, you are to contact each of them and invite them to the ball. There are about 300 names of the list so be smart about it. The theme this year…" Mr. O'Keefe continued as Harriet was handed a lengthy document with names, numbers, and addresses listed on it. It was this kind of information that she never thought she'd have in her hands. Harriet scanned the list for names that she might know but only saw a couple of names that she recognised. She put the paper aside as Mr. O'Keefe continued to give the run down on what had been organised and what needed to be done.

"So, Mr. O'Keefe, is it right that our guests of honour for the night include a certain film celebrity?" Irvine Lancaster asked, smirking in Harriet's direction with a glint in his eye that told her that he was attempting to embarrass her by making it known that she had made it known that she thought Tom Hiddleston's work was impressive. This was why Harriet didn't trust people, they were more likely to be cruel with personal information than kind.

"We have some impressive names coming from our former students. This would include the actor Mr. Hiddleston. Harriet you will be assisting the headmaster with the task of making sure our honoured guests feel welcomed and that they have everything they need for their stay."

"The guests stay here?" Harriet asked, scribbling notes into her lined notepad. She tried to hide her anger and embarrassment from Irvine as she continued to feel him looking at her, waiting for her to react.

"Why of course, they are our guests, not just attendees."

"Alrighty then," Harriet replied, "I just wasn't sure about the situation. This is my first celebration so I'm still getting my head around how things work. And how long do they stay on the grounds?"

"All week, if they are coming to most of the events. Mr. Wood and Mr. Hiddleston will be staying for the full week and will be giving their services to a variety of events, and Mr Denham will only be staying for the last two days. Now, decorations and music…" Mr. O'Keefe continued to delegate responsibilities to different staff members but the only noise Harriet could hear was her own heart beat.

The problem with falling in love with fictional characters in movies is that they are played by real people, actors, who aren't really the character you know from the film but have all the exterior similarities. Harriet had long been in love with British film and television but still had yet to actually meet any of her fantasy men. It terrified her to think that she might have to actually spend time with someone she had dreamt about for so long. She knew that the man would be unlike the characters he played, and in a lot of ways that would make it easier to deal with him professionally. She made a deal with herself as she sat in the meeting. She would not let herself be hurt by a fantasy. She would not let the man she had dreamed of become anything more than a fantasy. She would keep her distance. She would be the guide and nothing else. She might not even have to deal with the man himself, with publicists and managers and assistants there was a possibility that she would never even have to speak to him. As the thought passed through her mind she was snapped back into the reality of the meeting and Irvine laughing at her, along with the other male staff, as they looked at a photo on the computer.

"And you like this _actor_? He looks like a tosser to me," Irvine chided. His mannerisms were crass and vulgar and she wondered how he ever got to be like he was. He was a former pupil of Eton himself and yet he exhibited less pomp than the majority of the students and more vulgarity than even the worst of them combined. Harriet glared at him.

"He has played some interesting characters and played them well. He is also a former student here so there can't be many other good qualities about him other than his acting ability," Harriet retorted, making a point of deriding Eton's former pupils as Irvine had been one and held it as a point of pride to remind her that she was not even in their class of society. She was in his eyes, as he had once informed her, a "servant of no consequence, not even deserving of the title teacher". Ever since she had started he had made it a point of making her feel small and insignificant, which at the start was what she needed, but now it had just become petty and cruel. Harriet had done nothing to Irvine for him to be so continuous with this manner of derision. Her behaviour towards him had always been polite and courteous but he had always a snide expression on his face whenever she saw looking at her. He was a tall man, lanky but with a pot belly from years of drinking. His dark hair was cut short so that it stand up from his head slightly and made his head look larger than it should.

Mr O'Keefe dismissed the staff and Harriet was left alone in the meeting room with her laptop, her thoughts, and her list of things to be done. She was determined not to be distracted by the fantasy of Hiddleston and Harriet, she would not think about how they might spend the week going to different events, having conversations about literature, and laughing over the little silly things that happened at the school when he was there. Her mind danced with imaginings as she designed the invitation for the ball. She shook the thoughts from her mind and glared at the computer screen. The emptiness of the meeting room helped her to concentrate and she focused on the task as the sun went down behind her. The room filled with an orange light and then a dull blue light from the fluorescent bulbs from the hallway. She looked at the clock on the wall when she had drafted the invitation and she had missed dinner once again. She packed up her things and wandered through the halls towards the kitchen to pick up any leftovers the cooks might have. When she finally arrived back at her room she dropped her books on her desk and let out a long breath like she did every day when she was able to collect herself in her room. In just a few weeks these halls will be filled with past and present students of Eton. The thought stuck with her as she moved about her small teacher quarters that had been assigned her at the start of the year. She had attempted to make them her own with bits of art work from her sister that reminded her of home and photos of her family and an orange and green colour scheme to represent the sunburnt country she knew so well. It was supposed to make home feel not so distant but it all just reminded her that she wasn't there. She kicked off her black heels and curled up into the brown leather arm chair that had been provided by the school. Despite the way it looked, it was the most comfortable arm chair she had ever had the pleasure of occupying. It was soft enough to snuggle into and sturdy enough to be able to accomplish some work in it if she needed. Her desk sat under the window that looked out over the sports areas and she often would watch whatever game was on the fields from her room. With only four weeks before the festival there was a lot she needed to do and on top of preparing for every lesson and reviewing the boys' work she was going to be flat out, there wouldn't be any time to daydream of possible love lives.

The next morning Harriet woke to the sound of the ocean and a faint buzz sound coming from her phone across the other side of the room. She swung her legs out of bed and felt the chill of the morning. She showered and dressed and then checked her email. Fifteen new messages. She cleared her email before bed each night and she still couldn't keep up with the amount of requests from students' that came in. She scanned the sender name and subject line to see if anything might be urgent before heading off to breakfast and one caught her eye. It was from a publicity company. The subject? "Eton reunion - Hiddleston schedule."

How did they have her contact details already? If that wasn't efficiency Harriet didn't know what was. The email said that Mr Hiddleston would be coming up in two weeks to meet the coordinators of the event and go over some details for presentations. And that if it was convenient he would like to discuss co-teaching some English Literature and Drama classes during his week on campus. Harriet closed the lid of her laptop and pulled her teaching gown off the coat hanger that hung behind her bedroom door. She had to get to breakfast and see Julie before she had time enough to freak out. She couldn't allow this to happen. It was her fantasy and fantasy and reality should never be allowed to collide or else both would be spoiled by the other.


	3. Chapter 3

"You can't just say things like that and expect that it is going to be accepted by everyone else," Julie was sitting on the edge of Harriet's bed watching her choose an outfit for the day. "Sure there are some of the guys who are just stuck up because they are snobs, but in some ways you are a snob too. You think you are better than everyone here because you don't come from money. But most of these kids don't have a choice when it comes to who their parents are and what they do for a living."

Harriet knew Julie was right. She was being a snob and she could hear herself saying things she didn't really believe but she couldn't stop herself.

"And just because this festival is going to be a lot of wealthy, elitist types doesn't mean you don't have to play their game. We all know how well you play it." Julie smiled as she folded the jacket Harriet had tried on and then thrown at Julie in frustration. Julie placed it next to her on the bed and leaned back. "You will just have to put up with all the bachelors trying it on for the week and then next week you can go back to your books and films."

"It's not like I want to feel like this but some days it just gets to me. I've been hounded by O'Keefe and Lancaster for the past two weeks about event organisation and the guest list. I have done my job and done it well. There may have been one or two mishaps here or there with out-of-date information but that was hardly my fault. I just feel that what Irvine said was true. I am just a servant here. I don't belong in this world. How am I meant to relate to these people and find a way to make them feel at ease if I don't feel at ease myself? Do I suck it up and pander to them and be their servant for the week?" Harriet replied from the bathroom where she was changing into the sixth outfit she had picked out that morning.

"Mr. Lancaster is mistaken. You may not feel like you belong here but you have made it your own kind of place. Your classes are active and engaged. Your students respect you and where you come from, even though it is different from their own situation. If you ask me we need more people that aren't from this world in Eton."

"Jules, you don't know how the boys are in my classes. Yes, most of them are alright but it's the leaders of the troops who are still trying to break me and the rest of them will follow. I can feel my nerves slipping more and more every day. They're obnoxious, rude, and speak down to me constantly. They have been taught they can treat people who are different in socio-economical status than them with derision and cruelty. They believe they can speak to me with whatever manner they think fitting, which is usually contemptuous! It's humiliating! I came here to try and make a difference but I think I've found a lost cause. I'll just have to stick to teaching and leave the social correction to the true masters like you. I mean, Jules, the elitism just makes me sick. And the way they look at me, I feel gross after most of the senior classes. Why have they started being like this? They were fine a few weeks ago!"

"I may not know from first hand experience what they are like with you but I hear how the boys talk about you and it is not as bad as you may think. You're vision is blurred by one or two of the bullies in the school. They're mean to everyone. The rest of them respect you and where you are from. Just focus on teaching your curriculum for now. Don't let them get away with any of it. Remember sweetie, you can't change everyone's point of view. And maybe team teaching some classes with Hiddles would be a good change for you?" Julie tried to make light of the situation but she did know how the senior boys had been treating her, she had spoken to the headmaster about it and still nothing had changed. But she would never tell Harriet for fear it would make her even more prejudiced against the school. Julie needed a friend at Eton as much as Harriet did and so she protected her friend from the reality once again.

"You can't be serious!" Harriet exclaimed as she opened the bathroom door and present herself to Julie.

"Oh yes, I am serious, and that outfit is seriously good."

Harriet turned around and faced the full length mirror attached to her wardrobe. The simple black dress with a green satin belt revealed the gentle curves of her waist and brought out the green in her hazel eyes. She had matched her shoes to the belt with peep toe green heels that had a black floral design etched in the heel. She smiled at Julie in the mirror.

"Yes, I think this is it. Shoes okay?" She said twisting her feet around so Julie could see the heels.

"Perfect," she smiled. "He'll love it."

"It's not for… oh fine. But I'm telling you it's not going to be the great romance you have been trying to convince me of. He did go to Eton after all. And I can't fall in love with someone from that world. Simply out of principle I reject it. At the heart of the matter I could never love someone that has the basic cores and beliefs that this place has instilled in students for so many years. It would tear the relationship apart. No I am convinced that after all my fantasising I need to move on and leave it all behind. I am done with him. With all of it. From now on I live in reality. The good, the bad, and the very terrible. Julie, I can't keep living in isolation from the reality of relationships. This needs to end. And I'm going to end it fantastically in this very fetching outfit." Harriet was pacing back and forth in her room and finally came to a stop in front of the bed where Julie was still sitting.

"Bravo! I think that is a brave and wonderful idea. You should start living in reality and leave the fantasies behind. Everyone gets hurt in this world, my dear friend, but we can't let that stop us from living our lives!"

"I have lived in fear for far too long. I am taking charge. I will only let people in when I choose to let them in. But I can still protect myself and my heart at the same time. Bitterness and pessimism, be gone! I am now a realist. Bring on the real world."

"And one of those people you might choose to let in might be Mr. Thomas Hiddleston, right?" Julie winked at Harriet and giggled. Harriet threw a scarf at her and glared at her, trying to hide a smile.

"No, he cannot have, _all this._" Harriet said gesturing to her figure as she let herself smile at Julie.

"Fine, I'll stop pushing. But don't rule it out completely. You can still have fun whilst being professional. It's not against the rules."

"I _am_ a professional. I will be cordial and polite and will give him nothing to fall in love with."

"Apart from _all that._" Julie replied, gesturing towards Harriet's body.

"Well there are some things a gal can't help." Harriet blushed as she went back into the bathroom to fix her hair and makeup.

"You know there is the chance that you'll just not get along. He might be charming and gentlemanly and all that you've ever wanted but you'll just not connect… I don't think that will happen but there is a slight chance."

"That's an encouraging thought, Jules." Harriet shouted through the doorway to the bathroom as Julie walked into the bathroom and sat on the edge of the bath tub.

"I just meant that maybe you have nothing to worry about. The man can't be perfect. He'll have his flaws just like the rest of them."

"But he is an actor and so has had a lot of practice hiding his true flaws from the public eye. And I am part of that public. I'm not going to be that fangirl who blurts out that she loves him the moment she sees him. I may not be British but us Aussies have a lack of enthusiasm for the famous. He's just a guy."

"A very sexy guy." Julie teased.

"Who likes to play villainous characters, he has to be twisted in some way right?"

"I guess you're going to find out. It's time." Julie replied as she showed Harriet her wristwatch.

Harriet slipped into the black gown and adjusted her hair one last time before taking a deep breath and stepping out of her room into the hallway to meet the man and his entourage.


	4. Chapter 4

Harriet stood in the main entrance of the school. It was forty-five minutes past the arranged meeting time. If there was one thing Harriet couldn't tolerate it was tardiness. Growing up in a small town meant that whenever they were going anywhere she would be ready to go at least fifteen minutes ready before her family and she never got the hang of being fashionably late to anything. If you arrange a time to be somewhere then you turn up there and then. It's just plain rude to be late, she thought to herself. It says that your time is far more important than that of the person or people you are meeting. So she paced in the foyer. Slowly becoming more and more resentful towards the man she had adored on screen. Well, Harriet thought, that was that then, he was obviously just another star that didn't respect other peoples' time. He was very, very late, Harriet thought to herself, it was a sign that nothing would ever come of this. She noticed the car pull up just as she was trying to decide whether to wait around any longer or not. The car was a dark blue colour and had blacked out windows. Harriet quickly checked herself in the glass of one of the many framed pictures in the foyer and applied another coat of lip gloss to her already red glossed lips. She smoothed out her dress and stood up straight. Harriet pushed the door open and strode outside to greet her guests. She smiled as she stepped through the door and out into the cool autumn air. The gown whipped around her ankles and past her calves to show off her legs and the green and black heels that gave her that feminine non-teacher look that she had desired. First impressions, as Austen had taught her, were important. His wasn't going to be good since he was already an hour late for their meeting, but Harriet was determined to try make a good first impression.

The door of the car opened and a gentleman stepped out who was well dressed in a black suit with a light blue shirt. He held the door open and another man stepped out of the car. As his shoes hit the ground Harriet could see a whisp of blonde curl above the open door. Her breath caught in her throat involuntarily. As he stood up from the car she saw his shoulders broaden and the crisp white and grey pinstriped shirt he wore stretched so that his chest filled out the creases that had gathered whilst he had been travelling. The two men walked towards her and she deliberately looked away from Mr Hiddleston to his companion.

"I assume you must be Luke Windsor?" Harriet said as she extended her hand to his publicist. "Welcome to Eton College."

"Thank you Miss Spencer. May I introduce you to Tom Hiddleston," he replied as he took her hand and shook it.

"Hello," she replied tersely, she looked at him briefly and reached out her hand for him to shake.

"It's a pleasure." Tom said as he smiled broadly and shook her hand. Harriet's father had always said you can judge a man's character by his handshake and she couldn't help but hope he was right as his handshake was firm and felt as if he was deliberately investing energy into making sure she knew he meant what he said.

"If you would follow me this way and we'll get started." Harriet turned around and walked towards the foyer once again. She felt ridiculous. She should've made some small talk before directing them inside. Her tummy twisted into a knot as she held the door open for them both and they walked into the foyer.

"We'll just need you to sign in as visitors for the day, if you don't mind. It's school policy to keep track of everyone that is on campus in case of an emergency." Harriet said, immediately regretting the formality in which she spoke. Loosen up, she thought to herself, it's not like this isn't the same thing you do at parent-teacher night, meet and greet the rich and famous. Hold it together.

"Mr Windsor, is this your first time at Eton?"

"Actually, no, I've been here a few times before but haven't spent much time on the grounds," Luke replied as he signed the book. Tom stood on the other side of him watching him write in the visitor book. Joan Lachlan, who was tending to the administration office, shot Harriet a quick smile as she handed Tom Hiddleston the pen and book to sign in for himself. Joan and Harriet had chatted whilst Harriet was waiting and she knew how frustrated she had been with their lateness.

"I must say, Miss Spencer, we must apologise for being so late." Tom said as he scribbled a signature and closed the book to hand back to Joan.

"I am here to serve, sir." Harriet replied, diverting her gaze once again. "Follow me please. We've got a room set up for our meeting." Harriet walked through the office door and into the hallway of the main building. He was apologising and all she could do was dismiss him. She didn't want to hear his excuses or pleas of approval from a nobody. She just wanted this meeting to be over with so she could move on with her life and get back to doing her real job. The life of a teacher, she thought, is only really about 10 per cent actual teaching.

"You must think me an awful kind of celebrity to keep you waiting," Tom said as they walked down the hallway towards the room. "We got stuck in traffic and even leaving early didn't help the loss of time that occurred leaving London."

"Really, it's no problem." Harriet replied. She had to try and make a good impression, she reminded herself. Be polite. Be nice. Be accommodating. "It meant that I was able to relax and take a moment to not do any school work for once." She added and turned to smile at him. He was even more handsome in real life. His hair had its natural curl to it and had been returned to its natural reddish-blonde colour. She had always liked him best as a blonde over the darkness of Loki or Adam. He returned her smile and she almost tripped over her gown as she turned back to continue walking.

When they arrived at the room she gestured for them to enter and they walked past her into the room. There was a large table in the centre of the room with whiteboard at one end and a window that looked out towards the grass area of the main building. Students were walking back from their first class of the day. The headmaster had requested she be taken off her usual classes so as to spend as much time with the actor to plan for his stay during the festival. Tom had pulled out a seat for her and was waiting for her to approach him to sit. She took a brief look at the seat from the corner of her eye and then walked around to the other side of the table to sit down. She contemplated taking the seat but she couldn't bring herself to do it as it would be playing into her fantasy of him being the gentleman that she had dreamed of. Instead she decided to play ignorant, faking that she didn't realise he had pulled the chair out for her. It was one of those moments when her apparent lack of knowledge about etiquette came in handy. Ignorance can be forgiven in time. Tom looked slightly taken back as he watched her circle the table and place her notepad and pen on the other side of the table from him. Luke looked at him sideways and shrugged as if to tell him to just take a seat and forget it.

"Miss Spencer," Luke started.

"Please, call me Harriet. Only students ever call me Miss Spencer," she interjected as she opened her notepad and wrote the date in the top right hand corner of the page.

"Harriet, that isn't a English accent, is it?" he asked.

"No, it is an Australian one, although people keep thinking that it is American, which I still find slightly strange."

"What part of Australia are you from?" Tom asked, leaning back in the dark red, wooden chair. His elbows finding the arm rests of chair so he could clasp his hands together and look pensively across the table at her with them resting in his lap.

"I grew up in a small rural town about five hours drive from Sydney. I spent seven years in the city and then moved back to the country to teach in poor, isolated schools. Then I made the decision to come here in the middle of last year and have been here since."

"That's quite a change," Luke replied warmly, encouraging her to continue. Harriet could see that he was trying to make her feel at ease with the celebrity in the room. He needn't have expended the energy though. Tom's presence was surprisingly calming for Harriet, although she still felt the butterflies in her stomach.

"I hope you have enjoyed your stay here so far, Miss Spencer," Tom said as he leaned forward and placed his still clasped hands on the table.

She didn't correct his use of her formal title as she found it alarmingly attractive as the words rolled from his mouth. He had a small amount of stubble forming around his chin and upper lip which caught her attention as she studied him. Her eyes met his across the mahogany table. She couldn't take her eyes off him. The colour was burned into her mind and the softness and kindness in them shone through. It was distracting and at the same time made her feel even more determined to keep the meeting professional.

"Um, yes, it has been a fine institute to be teaching at. Shall we make a start?" she asked as she cleared her throat and looked down at her notes. Don't fall, Harry, don't even think about it. This is just business, she thought. She flicked her eyes across to Luke, looking for any help of where to go next. She had spoken to him on the phone briefly the previous week to arrange the meeting time and he had been incredibly helpful in directing her what to focus on for the day.

"If you wish," Luke replied, as he watched her disconnect eye contact. He had to be used to this. Hiddleston's magnetic charisma was bound to be an issue with meeting with women. There was a quizzical look on his face, though, as he looked from Harriet to Tom. "I'm just here as an escort more than anything else. Tom wanted to make the most of this opportunity to get into some teaching opportunities that might benefit the students."

"Of course, because they don't have many opportunities here," Harriet could feel the words coming out of her mouth and immediately regretted their existence both in the air and in her mind. She winced and tried to cover her answer. "To meet an actor who is so enthusiastic about literature as well as the performance arts, I mean." She could feel the hole she had created widen beneath her.

"Well, most of us creatives are a mess of pop culture and misery," Tom laughed.

"No, I didn't mean…I just…" Harriet stumbled over her words and then took a quick breath and collected her composure again. "The students here will be thrilled to learn about literature from someone other than myself. The novelty factor of my being from D_own Under_ has worn off and so treating them to some entertainment was always in my educational plan for this time of the year." She tried to give her voice a light and relaxed tone but her nerves had seemed to rattle even her voice box.

"I'm pleased to know my talents will be able to be inserted into your plan so neatly. And here I was worrying whether or not I would be a disruption."

"We welcome disruptions in our English lessons, they make for the best teachable moments."

"Teachable moments?" Tom asked as he shifted in his seat, his legs seemingly too long for the old style wooden seat. The chair creaked beneath him and Harriet felt him tense because of the sound. She looked across at Luke who was keeping himself busy on his tablet and phone.

"Moments in the class when a tangent or the direction of conversation changes in such a way that it opens up the perfect moment to teach a critical point of either the material or something about life in general. Such as why men should treat women as equals and not as possessions or objects to be obtained by any means necessary. Or when you teach poetry and the perfect moment opens itself up for the lesson about how language is not just a tool for social communication but also a form of art. It's the Oh Captain, My Captain moment. It's the moment every teacher hopes and wishes for, and when it comes along you wish you had that perfectly scripted monologue to use."

"I see, and do these moments occur frequently?"

"Hardly, that's why they are so precious. Distractions are usually just the boys trying to get out of work. But sometimes you get that perfect moment. It's a beautiful thing to behold when you do."

"I hope that I can be the cause of such a moment for you."

Harriet blushed. No, she thought to herself, don't fall for the act. He is a professional actor. He plays the game much better than you do. He is just doing what you do every day with the students. Make them feel special and interesting and get them on your good side so they'll do what you want. Don't fall for it. She cleared her throat and fiddled with her pen.

"The best teachable moments, though, are the ones that are planned, so we should probably plan what you want to do in the lessons." Harriet couldn't help the tone of her voice and she heard the formality in her words. "We've organised for one of the days to be a few tutorial type sessions with the seniors and then the juniors will have more formal classroom style lessons with you."

"What lessons do you teach, Miss Spencer?" Tom inquired. His face was genuine and he looked straight at her when he spoke to her. He was a fine specimen of a man, she thought to himself, the right balance of kindness, mischief, and seriousness.

"My main area of expertise is English," Harriet replied, she was trying to decide whether she should mention her love of film or leave herself to be slightly enigmatic. She decided for the former, if she was going to live in reality she needed to be herself. "My real passion in the classroom is film and drama though. The written word is to be upheld but in my experience it is film and dramatic performance where you can really grab all the students' attention and help them to see how literature informs our social behaviours and constructs. It is how this new generation learns to interact with one another and where they spend a lot of their time. As much as I love novels they don't connect with the masses like film and television does. It's not necessarily applicable to Eton, but I find most students loathe reading fiction. Although I have had success in drawing students to reading through comics and graphic novels." She drew in a breath when she had finished. She was rambling and she could feel more words coming up but she pushed them down and formed her next question in her mind. "What did you like studying when at school?" Oh, sure Harriet, that is the best you can do? She made a mental note to slap herself later for such a banal question.

"You are passionate about your work," Tom said in reply, "but there seems to be some resentment towards Eton. Why are you here if you don't like the basis of the school and if you spent your early career teaching the poor and needy?"

"That, sir, is a long story, and one in which we don't have time to discuss today."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry." he replied, he shifted back into the seat and away from the table. Harriet felt the space between them grow.

"It's not a very interesting story. I suppose my general opinion of such an elitist institution is not one of high regard, which is why I came here to begin with. That is, I wanted my opinion to be altered."

"And has it been altered?" he inquired. She could feel Luke listening to their conversation even though he was tapping away at his tablet's keyboard.

"Eton has treated me very well so far." Her answer was stated plainly through stiffened lips and averted eyes. Harriet felt the hope of some fantasy romance seep from her gut and the butterflies fluttered away. This was not the first impression she intended to make. She had told him that she didn't like his old school, that she liked movies better than books, and she had given the general impression that she was just here to work and not to converse freely. This is not going as smoothly as I had hoped, Harriet thought to herself. She wanted to run away, to leave the room and to drag one of the other teachers into this mess she had made.

"I'm sorry, I have to make a phone call. You alright here Tom?" Luke said as he stood. Tom nodded at him, his expression looking far less amused than a few moments previous. "Excuse me, Harriet." Luke said as he took his phone call in the hall way.

"So you don't like Eton?" Tom asked.

"The school is beautiful, as is the town."

"But it is the people you find disagreeable?"

"I have the uncanny ability to enjoy most people's company, Mr Hiddleston." Harriet replied, feeling slightly defensive of her own position. She would not be judged because of her choices. "I never said I didn't like Eton."

"No, but as you are well aware from studying drama and film, body language and vocal tone are tools that performers use to convey meaning without words. And your body language and tone suggests you do not tell the truth when it comes to this matter."

"You're accusing me of lying?" she said shocked.

"No, of course not. I'm just making an observation. I did not intend to insult you."

"Wow. Okay, well I think maybe we should just focus on planning your sessions with the students."

"I'm sorry, Miss Spencer… Harriet, my apologies, I was just curious to know why you don't find a place that I loved in my youth to be as agreeable."

"No, I'm sorry, I have had an interesting couple of classes the last few days." Harriet realised that her ability to ascertain his needs rather than focusing on herself had disintegrated through the conversation. She needed to get a grasp. "Shall we use this time efficiently? I wouldn't want to hold you longer than need be."

The door reopened and another man joined Luke as he reentered. The tension in the room released with their entrance and Harriet caught Tom's gaze as she was introduced his manager. His eyes looked sadly at her through the smile on his face and she knew that his first impression of her could not be undone.


	5. Chapter 5

"We're so thankful you could take the time out from your schedule to help Tom plan for his visit. We want to make sure he is used well while he is visiting." Tom's manager said as he shook Harriet's hand. "Luke mentioned you're going to be looking after the guests of honour during the week? Should we contact you or the headmaster about any enquiries we have?"

"You're more than welcome to contact me about any of the activities that will be going on but the headmaster will be able to direct you towards more organisational information, or at least he will know who to ask about that. But I'm happy to field any questions you have and chase up answers for you. I've got a handle on most of what is happening," Harriet smiled courteously at Tom's manager and gestured for him to take a seat.

"Excellent to hear. Brilliant, just brilliant. I have to make a few phone calls, is there some where quiet I might be able to go? Tom, you're right?" the manager said looking around the room.

"Two doors down on the left is a little office, there shouldn't be anyone in there," Harriet said. The man was an older gentleman than Luke and Tom. He also wore a suit but he hadn't taken as much care as the other two to have it tailored precisely to his shape. It was slightly baggy over his shoulders but hugged tight around his waist, and the pants fell a little long over his shiny black shoes.

"Thanks," he replied and he exited the room again.

Harriet stood there for a minute trying to work out how she was going to make up for her previous comments about her disdain for all things Eton when she realised that she was, in fact, still standing looking at the door. She snapped back to reality and took her seat again.

"So, Miss Spencer, where would _you_ like to begin?" Tom asked her with a stern look on his face. Oh, he hated her, she thought to herself, well, things could have been worse, he could have liked her. At least there was now no chance of him flirting with her and then breaking her heart. She was resigned that he would now just treat her with the coldness and distance that all of the other male teachers at Eton had. Harriet pulled a schedule from her folder and pushed it across to him.

"Here are the times you have for the different classes. I suggest we start with the junior program and work out what subject you would like to address in the class and then go from there," she tried to sound enthusiastic but her bubble of fantasy had finally burst and she was now fully and completely in the realm of reality. This is how it would have to be.

They worked out the program over the next two hours with Luke and the manager coming in and out of the room the whole time. She felt like she was being examined for the way she worked but after some time Harriet relaxed and began to treat it like any other team teaching meeting. Their conversation switched from personal information into discussing teaching strategies, content to be delivered, and the different students that will benefit from such a lesson.

Harriet pulled her laptop out of her bag and plugged it into the interactive whiteboard at the end of the conference room. She pulled up a new worksheet as she explained what kind of students he would be teaching.

"Wow," he said as the interactive whiteboard came to life with what was on her laptop.

"School's changed since you left?" she teased, trying to disperse the tension that had built up in the room.

"Only slightly," he replied standing next to her and leaning against the large, heavy wooden table that they had been sitting at.

"I thought this might be an easier way to map out what you would like to teach and how you will deliver the content. It will all be on the board and saved to a file so I can email to Luke when we're done. That way you have a copy of it and can follow what we work on."

"Brilliant."

"Really?" she asked, it was the first time since her rant he had relaxed and complimented her.

"Yes, it saves me from taking notes." His smile was divine and Harriet could feel herself melting into it. Keep it calm, she told herself, do not under any circumstances freak out. He is just another casual teacher coming in for the week. You are just helping him plan the lessons. Stop freaking out, she could hear herself yelling in her head.

They planned out the lesson and how Tom would deliver it. The board acted as their intermediary and they took turns taking notes about different choices and ideas for the seminar. By the end of planning the first lecture he had the scaffolding of a script down and some notes from Harriet on how to make it interactive if he wanted to. He had some experience in front of large groups of people doing press conferences and auditions and Harriet suggested that he treat it the same way. Every lesson is a performance of the self, she explained. You are trying to convey information about a topic in the most interesting way possible.

"I'm sure you will have no trouble in that regard," she said as they were finishing the plan for the Junior classes. She twirled her pencil in her fingers and she pushed herself up onto the table staring at the board. He legs dangled over the edge of the table and her dress slid back above her knees. She tried pulling it down to make it slightly more appropriate for the situation without much luck.

"Well my job is more about conveying a character than ideas," he replied, the smile had returned over the course of their conversation and they had talked easily over the business of planning the classes. She saw him catch a glimpse of her legs as she sat back on the table as he moved away from the board to the edge of the table.

"You're an intelligent and articulate man, you'll be fine in front of some young, impressionable minds."

"That's kind of you to say," he replied.

She looked up at him and furrowed her brow. After talking for the past two hours about literature, drama, teaching, and education, she was trying to fit all she had learned about him into her preconceived notions of who he was from how he had presented himself to the world as an actor. The two pictures blurred into a resemblance somewhat like the Tom Hiddleston she thought she knew but there were some things he had said in the last hour that she could not reconcile with her picture of him. Harriet had discovered that she knew little of the man behind the interviews and the public appearances. The sinking realisation came to her that she had, in fact, created and admired a fictional character based off a real person.

When they had the outline of the class set she looked at her watch, it was almost lunchtime. Luke reentered the room with his phone still to his hear.

"Hang on a sec, excuse me, Tom," he said as he walked up to him. Tom pushed himself up from the table and as he looked away from Harriet she caught a glimpse of a smile in the corner of his lips. Luke spoke quietly to him as he faced him. "Can Empire use the candid quote or not? It's not going to hurt your image and they are asking which is rare."

"Hmm," Tom sighed, "okay, but if this gets picked up I'm blaming you, mate."

"I'll take full responsibility." Luke said as he turned away and back to his phone.

"It never stops for you does it?" Harriet asked as Tom swivelled back to face her.

"What doesn't stop?" he asked with a quizzical look on his face.

"The work that isn't acting. Your life. It's filled with those kinds of questions."

"Oh, I guess not. It hasn't always been like this and it won't remain this way. I'm riding the wave while it is here. The roller-coaster only lasts for so long, if you spend most of the time terrified or screaming you won't be able to see how amazing the ride is."

"I think that is about the eighteenth metaphor you've used this morning." Harriet pushed herself from the table and moved towards her laptop. She needed to save the work they had done before she forgot and she couldn't keep looking at him any longer. It had started to bring back the feelings she had pushed to the side while they had been working.

"Aha, yes, it's a bad habit I can't seem to want to kick."

"I know I saw that NerdHQ interview."

"You did?"

"So, I, um, I'm just going to email this stuff to Luke and you can get it from him? I suggest you plan out what you're going to say in full detail, but feel free to divert from the script when you're actually teaching. Teachable moments, remember?"

"Yes, I do remember. Can I send you my draft when I'm done?" he asked her as she unplugged the laptop and took a seat at the long table again. He moved towards her in a way that made her heart quicken its beat and as he sat beside her she could feel herself warm from nervousness.

"Sure, I'd be more than happy to look at anything you want me to," she responded in the most composed way she could

"Really?" he said with a smirk on his face and one eyebrow raised.

"Oh god, I didn't mean…" she blushed as she realised what she had just implied. It had been such subtle innuendo that she questioned in her mind why he had thought of it so quickly.

"I'm joking. I appreciate it. Really." He looked at her in a most earnest way and Harriet could feel his charismatic pull. She typed quickly on the keyboard to keep herself distracted and when she had finished and had hit the send button she finally looked up at him.

"And we're done for the day."


	6. Chapter 6

Harriet stood to the edge of the hallway. She watched the young men push their way past her and to their classes. It had been four days since the meeting and she was anxiously waiting for any correspondence or contact. None had come. She tried to think nothing of it but she couldn't help her mind wander into the fantasy she had previously fostered so generously. She had put disciplines in place to help her mind to stay focused on her work and the festival organisation. It had become her practice to leave her phone locked in her room so she couldn't incessantly check for any messages, as she knew she would. She had maintained her schedule diligently filling in any spare moments with work or any occupying activity so she couldn't live in her fantasies but rather stay fixated on the world around her. Everything she did was to live in the present, the here and now. Julie had helped her to stay the course but there were intermittent moments of thoughts betrayed.

Harriet found a break in the traffic of students and started her walk to class. She had a pile of books in her hands and her laptop and worksheets in her bag. Harriet juggled them through the sea of pupils and when she finally arrived at her classroom she noted that her students were already seated and quiet. There was a nervous energy in the room as she entered and she soon discovered why. The headmaster stood at the back of the room with a tall gentleman beside him. Harriet looked away immediately and placed the books on the table and plugged her laptop into the projector.

"Joshua, please hand out the texts to each student," Harriet said as she opened the presentation for the day. "Gentlemen, while we may have some guests in the class we will still be going over the major themes of the the set text as planned. You will need to find two explicit examples of each theme. Start working whilst I speak with Mr Longmire." Harriet noted how quickly the boys opened their books and started to read and she almost sighed with relief that they were being well behaved. With an audience it would have been easy for them to humiliate her but then again they would have humiliated themselves, and have been spoken to by the headmaster.

Harriet picked up the remote control for her laptop and then finally made eye contact with the gentlemen who were still standing at the back of the room. Harriet moved towards them, her heart raced but she was angry for the lack of warning. She realised that she had only twisted her hair up into a bun when she got ready that morning and that she must have looked quite different from the other day. Not unkept but far less formal than she had been. She looked down briefly at her clothes as she tried to remember what she put on that morning. Black skirt, light blue fitted top that had a slight frill at the bottom edge, she had worn her black ankle boots and pale blue floral tights that tied the outfit together. It was a staple outfit for her and the boys had seen it many times. Harriet sighed with relief, she hadn't failed deplorably even though she had been hurrying.

"Miss Spencer, Mr Hiddleston was kind enough to come back to the school to work out some more details of the festival with you. I told him that you were teaching this lesson and he asked if he could observe. I know this is short notice but I insist that you allow Mr Hiddleston to observe this class and any others he feels might help him to prepare for the festival." Mr Longmire, the headmaster informed Harriet before she could protest to their presence in her class.

"Sir, I do not think this will be the most interesting of lessons to behold, the young men are simply doing revision of the text they have already studied. Surely Mr Hiddleston has better things to do than sit in a class?" Harriet knew she was sounding cold and defensive but she was angered by the lack of choice she had in the matter.

"Nonsense, he came here expressly for this purpose."

"Yes sir, of course it would be my honour to assist Mr Hiddleston," Harriet replied. She knew the look on her face disagreed with her statement but Mr Longmire did not seem to notice, even if Mr Hiddleston did. She could see the change in his face, even out the corner of her eye, she could see that she had not provided the response he had been expecting or wanting. His body tensed slightly and Harriet tried to hide her discomfiture at his presence.

"Excellent. Carry on as normal then," Mr Longmire said as he exited the room via the rear door of the classroom.

Harriet stood there, looking anywhere but at the man that stood before her. If this was going to happen, she thought, I need to take control of the situation. Be the teacher. Take a breath, she told herself.

"Gentlemen, pens down for a moment please. We have a special guest today who will be observing the class. May I introduce and welcome Mr Thomas Hiddleston," she said as she walked back to the front of the room.

"It's a pleasure to be back in these hallowed halls. Please, continue as normal gentlemen," Tom replied cordially as the entire class swivelled in their seats to look at the film star. The looks on the boys faces said it all, they were ecstatic about being in the same room as the man. There is no way any work is going to get done this period, Harriet thought to herself.

"Gents, back on task please. If you have any questions you know the magic words."

Harriet flicked the presentation to the second slide and then walked up and down the rows of students to make sure they were working on pace. As she zigzagged through all the rows she tried to think of a way to approach the man without seeming as provoked as she was. As she reached the back of the room where Tom stood she tried to ignore the displeasing aspect of his presence and accept that he was here to learn as well. Just another casual teacher, Harriet thought to herself.

"The boys seem engaged and attentive to the subject matter." Tom stated in a whisper as she reached him. "I really appreciate you allowed me to observe. I know Mr Longmire didn't really give you an option, but I wanted to let you know that I am glad of the opportunity that you have provided me with."

"At least the boys are behaving. Usually the class is a riot. This quiet is unusual. And most likely due to your presence. Which of course will likely be the same when you actually come and teach them in a couple of weeks."

"You could tell them to misbehave a little," he replied, a small smile revealing the teasing nature of his suggestion.

"Oh if only they listened to me at all," Harriet replied, allowing herself to enjoy the moment only briefly.

A hand rose in the midst of the classroom. Henry, thank goodness for you, Harriet thought as she excused herself and walked across to the smallish boy sitting in the middle row.

"Miss, what is Tom Hiddleston doing in our class?" Henry whispered to her when she reached him.

"Making sure you are a manageable class to teach so that when he comes for the festival he won't have too much trouble with boys like you." Harriet replied with a smile in her voice. "What is your real question, Henry?"

"Can you give us an example of what you want for the response to the theme questions?"

"Magic words?"

"Miss Spencer, if it pleases you, could you give us an example of what you want for the response to the theme questions?"

"It pleases me." Harriet nodded with a smile and moved towards the whiteboard at the front of the class. "Gents, pay attention, I'm only going to model an answer for you, not give you an answer. Make sure you get it in your books for when you come back to it. This will be a model response to what you are to write for each theme question. Remember, state your argument, give an example, explain it, and relate it back to the original question. Theme number one…" Harriet taught the lesson and tried to focus on the students rather than the physically alluring actor who had played, and still looked like, a Norse god standing at the back of her classroom.


	7. Chapter 7

"They seem to really like you."

"It's taken a fair amount of time and persistent work to get the ratbags to behave themselves, don't you worry about that. I'm sure your class would have found ways to torment your teachers just like these ones do," Harriet replied as she packed up her things. She clicked out of the powerpoint she had been using and then quickly snapped the lid of her laptop shut as she realised what her desktop picture was. Why do I have to be a nerd? she asked herself as she watched the picture of Avengers disappear from the projector screen. She winced and hoped he hadn't seen it but she couldn't be sure. Harriet started to collect the texts off the desks and tried to dull the blush that had flushed onto her cheeks.

"Ratbags?" Tom replied, picking up some books from the back row.

"Adorable, wonderful, delightful ratbags."

"But ratbags all the same? You don't think much of Eton's students, do you?" He replied placing the texts on the front desk.

"All students are ratbags to their teachers. It's just a fact of life in the educational system. We see these children grow up and go from being ratbag juniors to sophisticated seniors. We love them all the same. Eton isn't any different, not really. At the start I thought that everyone here was obnoxious and snobby but I think that, maybe… I don't know, I guess I might have been slightly biased myself."

Harriet stacked the books in one tall pile on the desk. Her bag hung over the back of the teacher's chair and she turned to pick the bag up from where she had left it. Harriet slung her bag over her shoulder. She went to pick up the texts but as she turned back to the desk Tom had already lifted the pile into his arms. She looked at him and he smiled and tilted his head towards the door.

"Lead the way."

"Okay?" she said, still unsure of his intentions and the reasons he was here. "You could have emailed me any questions you had. You needn't have come all the way," she continued as they left the room and she pulled the door shut behind her.

The students had dispersed from the hallways into their next class and so they had the hallways to themselves for the most part. He walked beside her towards her office. It was on the next floor up and she felt bad for making him carry the books. He didn't reply to her suggestion but rather kept walking down the hall.

"This way," she said as they approached the stairs. "Can I take some of those books? It's a bit of an awkward pile."

He shook his head as they started their ascent up the staircase. His face wrinkled into a quizzical look and she felt him looking at her as they continued up the stairs. When they reached the first landing it was Harriet who stopped in her tracks as he continued up.

"Why are you here?" she asked him bluntly. She couldn't handle the suspense any longer.

"If you show me where your office is, so I can put down these books, then I shall tell you."

"I told you I can carry some…" she interjected.

"Seeing as I'm already carrying them I think it may be more straightforward if I continue to carry them. Miss Spencer, if it please you, would you direct me to your office?" he smiled at her from the stairs above her and she couldn't help but feel like he had a meddlesome reason for being here, for coming into her class unannounced, and for carrying her books back to her office. He used her magic words from the class, he had been paying attention to her etiquette in class. Well, Harriet thought, she may need to be civil about this but she didn't need to like it.

Harriet pushed her way past Mr Hiddleston and turned down the left-hand corridor of the second floor. Her office was small but did the job adequately of accommodating the resources she needed. She had made it cozy and welcoming so that doing work in it was bearable. She had photos of her family on her walls and some movie posters from some of her favourite films to inspire her. Oh god, Harriet thought in a panic, the posters! There was one poster in particular that she loved but that she now realised would betray her professional relationship with Mr Hiddleston if he saw it.

"Um, can you just wait here for a minute?" she asked when they reached the door. She unlocked it and then slipped inside without waiting for his reply.

She hurriedly put her bag down next to her desk and then pulled down the Thor: The Dark World - Loki poster that had prime position in her office. She had spent many hours staring at that poster and letting her mind disappear into fantasy rather than planning her lessons. But now she rolled it up quickly and then placed it behind her desk, out of sight. She walked back to the door and opened it. Tom was still standing there, leaning against the wall to the right of her door, books still piled in his arms.

"I'm so sorry," Harriet said stepping out in front of him, her arms hugged her stomach, trying to hide her embarrassment from acting so rashly. "That was really rude, I shouldn't have done that." She felt the guilt in how ridiculously she had acted. She composed herself, took a deep breathe, and shook the thought from her head. "Please, let me take the books from you. Come in," she gestured into her office and he walked into the poky space.

"Miss Spencer, I know you must think I'm a ridiculous actor…"

"Not at all ridiculous," Harriet interrupted.

"Well… Hmm, I haven't been back here for a long time. Last time I was in this office was in my senior year. Mr Horton was the English teacher then. A gruff old man, but he loved the classics. He encouraged me in every aspect of studying language and narrative. Although he was partial to me when it came to my studies, he did not admire my ability to disrupt the entire class with impressions of the teachers," he continued as he looked around the room and studied the books and films on her shelves. "You've changed the decor somewhat." He seemed to relax slightly in the setting of Harriet's office and as he glanced at the books on the shelves and the posters Harriet could see him trying to form a picture of what kind of person she was.

"Please, make yourself comfortable," Harriet pointed at the chair opposite her desk, suggesting that he should take a seat. Students would come to inquire about their essays and she had an open office policy that meant she needed more than one seat in her office that already lacked space. It was a dark red corduroy material and was more of a lounge than a seat but it took up an inordinate amount of space opposite her desk.

"Thank you," he said as he lowered himself into the chair gracefully.

"Mr Hiddleston, can I get you a drink? Tea? Coffee? Anything?" Harriet asked as she stood by her desk watching him.

"No, thank you, I'm…actually a tea might be nice."

His face embodied a mixture of contentment and nostalgia, Harriet thought as she went to make some tea. Her office linked with two others that shared a kitchenette with a kettle and fridge. As she moved through the door she tried to compose herself and any intelligent thought she could muster together. He was in her office. Alone. With her. He came to her. Without being asked. Without her doing anything. What. Is. Happening? she thought as she flicked the tea into the tea pot and gathered two cups from the cupboard. She could hear him standing in the other room, moving around. Harriet packed the carry tray with the teapot, strainer, milk jug, and sugar. She fitted the tea cups onto the edges of the tray carefully and then carried it back into her office.

"You've got an interesting selection of films for an English teacher."

"Oh, yes, I'm a bit of a fan of film of all kinds. Most of those I'd never teach but it is a good opener for students who come into the office."

"You've got all of the films I've been in… Even the not so well known ones. And organised together, separate from the rest of your collection."

"Ah, um, yea…" Harriet put the tea things on her desk and distracted herself by pouring the tea.

"If I may ask, Miss Spencer, you seem to be a fan of my work but not of me, why is that?"

"What gives you that impression?"

"The collection of films, to start with," he replied with a softness in his voice that made her feel safe and open.

"Honestly?" she asked, immediately regretting giving the option.

"Ehehe, yes, that would be nice," Tom laughed as he retook his seat.

"Alright, well, I am a bit of a fan of both you and your work," Harriet replied honestly as she handed him the tea cup and saucer. She could feel her cheeks warm and she hoped that her light coat of foundation and applied pink rouge was covering her natural blush.

"The coldness towards me then is because, why?" he questioned.

"Coldness?"

"The other day, you didn't give the impression that you desired to be helping me. Luke even mentioned it on the trip back. I wasn't convinced and so, here I am, to ask the question. I always believe that face-to-face conversation is far better than distant communication, so much can be misconstrued."

"I'm sorry if I have come across as cold. That was not my intent." She handed him the cup of tea and then took a seat herself behind her desk.

"What was your intent?"

"Professionalism?" she said apprehensively. "And perhaps a slight nervousness."

"The reason I came here today was mainly to see you."

Harriet looked up from her tea and straight at him. She swallowed the tea she held in her mouth.

"Why?"

"There were a few reasons. Firstly, because I knew we would be working together and I wanted to clear the air and make sure you didn't loathe me and would hate to work with me. Secondly, because I actually did finish writing my talk and would like you to check it. And finally, because… frankly, you captured my curiosity."

"Sir, please believe when I say I truly don't loathe you. And I'm sincerely sorry I gave that impression. I thought we worked well together the other day."

"I thought so too. It was just little moments that suggested a distaste for me and Luke agreed with what he saw of the meeting that it would be better to clear the air and try and win you over than have the week be disagreeable for both of us."

"There is little chance that the week will be disagreeable." Harriet smiled coyly as she sipped her tea. "I mean, the organising team has a splendid week of activities planned. You are under no obligation to spend much time with me, if any at all, if you did not want to… or if you wanted to occupy yourself with other entertainment and acquaintances."

Harriet could feel herself opening up to the English charm of the man sitting across from her. His smile, his eyes, his positivity, and his openness bid her to relax into the friendship that was open to forming and to welcome it with grace and elegance. The danger and risk of becoming attached to a fantasy was too easily available to her. Civility and respectfulness is what is required, nothing more, nothing less, she thought to herself as she took another sip of tea.

"And if all else fails you can always call your entourage to come and entertain you." The words left her lips before she even thought them and she slapped her palm over her mouth the moment the words were vocalised.

"Ehehe, you're quite right, Miss Spencer," he laughed.

"My mouth doesn't seem to want to listen to my brain today." Now the blush was definitely showing through, she thought. Harriet straightened up in the desk chair and took a deep breath. She would not lose control of her senses simply because Tom Hiddleston was sitting, drinking tea, in her office.

"There is a refreshment to your candidness that I enjoy," he said as he placed his tea on the edge of the desk.

"The problem, it seems, is the disconnect between my tongue and my mind. Once again it proves to be untrained and unruly."

"It makes life a lot more interesting and fun, does it not?" Tom smiled at her as he leaned back into the sofa, with one foot resting on the opposite knee as he sat.

"I'm not sure blurting out inappropriate and unprofessional statements can count as fun."

"The fun may not be for you but for your audience."

"And yet I only have an audience of one right now and I have given offence to them rather than expressing hospitality and respect."

"Miss Spencer, you are too harsh on yourself. You're doing fine. Much better than the other day. A larger improvement from calling my former school an elitist institution that brainwashes children to believe they are better than the rest of the world." He laughed as he saw her face fill with embarrassment and regret.

"Oh god," Harriet said as she stood suddenly and turned away from him. She put her hands to her face. This was not going as planned.

He had obviously heard her rant after he had left for lunch. Julie had come down to see how the meeting had gone and Harriet had burst into another of her famous diatribes about the elitism she felt at the school. And even though Tom had given her every respect and every courtesy, she still managed to verbally assail the institution that taught him. It had been a reaction and a defence mechanism to protect against his charm, which she explained to Julie later, once the adrenalin had worn off. And yet he had heard her and now there was no redeeming her.

"I didn't mean what I said the other day," she tried to explain.

"There's no need to give an explanation. Most people believe the same that you do about schools such as Eton."

"I really don't think that…" Harriet tried to make an apology hurriedly as she paced behind her desk.

"Eton has been an elitist institution…"

"…the school is like that any more. Maybe once it used to be but now the values that are taught are far more altruistic."

"…and you have every right to expect more of it."

"I just…"

"It's forgotten."

"There isn't…"

"Miss Spencer," Tom said quietly as he stood and moved towards her. His proximity made her freeze on the spot, terrified that if he came any closer she would not be able to function as a human being for any sustainable period of time hereafter. He put his hands on her forearms softly and looked her straight in the eyes. "You can relax. I thought your comments were mildly amusing. They are not anything I haven't heard before. You are free to have your own opinion, although I find it fascinating that you would choose to come here from Australia to work for an institution you are so fiercely opposed to. I hope you explain why you are here to me one day."

Harriet realised she was holding her breath in and let some air out slowly as her cognitive functions rebooted.

"Sorry," she said simply as she regained her composure. He let his hands fall from her arms and he took a step back from her and smiled with concern.

"Okay?" he asked.

"Yes." she said, "Would you still like me to have a look at your talk?"

He walked back to the sofa where his shoulder bag lay on the ground next to it. He pulled out a document from his bag and handed it to her. She took a seat, picked up a red pen and began to read.


	8. Chapter 8

"This is amazing." Harriet held the pieces of paper in her hand as the words danced in her mind. His writing matched his smile, it was dazzling. His turn of phrase, his constant metaphors that brought to life his prose. She could hear his voice through the words on the page and could envisage him standing before the class of boys and having them so engaged they would be talking about it for weeks afterwards. As she finished the final sentence she fell in love with the person that wrote such a speech. She wondered if they were really his words.

"Hmm?" Tom was staring at Harriet's collection of books and movies on her shelves. They had held his attention for the time that it had taken her to read his speech for the class.

"It's," Harriet looked down at the pages in her hands, words escaping her, "very well put together."

"Really? I spent a lot of time this week being tormented by it. I wasn't sure if it was going to tonally appropriate for the group of students. Do you think it will be okay?" he asked, turning back to face her, his strong and virile hands held onto the back of the chair across from her desk. Harriet caught herself imagining those hands holding her and she tried to shake the thought from her mind.

"I think I would change a couple of the words, our students are smart but may not have the vocabulary of a Classical scholar. I made some notes on the page…I hope that was okay?"

"Of course," Tom moved away from the chair again towards her shelves. "You have an impressive and diverse collection here."

"It's a bit of an obsession, but I've never settled for a particular genre. I usually find actors, directors, and writers that I like and then watch and buy their work. Hence why the order is a bit illogical. It's organised around my pattern of obsession. It makes the kids think when they come in here though. Same thing with the books, organised mostly by author and genre depending on how I have read them or discovered them."

"And my films were an obsession?" Tom asked inquisitively yet without pretence.

"Well, yes...among many others," Harriet said trying to hide the blush she felt lifting from her chest to her cheeks.

"Yes, of course, among a lot of others I can see," he replied almost sharply.

Harriet felt a twinge of guilt as she knew she had pinched a nerve. Creatives, she thought, such a sensitive bunch.

The last bell of the day rang and the halls outside her door filled with the shuffle of feet, the noisy chatter of boys, and the sweet sound of laughter as they made their ways from the classroom to their dorms or their homes. In fifteen minutes the school would be quiet again, the halls drained of noise and filled with the echo of loneliness. Harriet was far too well acquainted with that silence. She wanted an escape from the reverberation of childhood taunting her adulthood life. Harriet then made the rash decision to ask the next question that came into her head.

"Do you have plans for this evening?" Her voice was uneasy but she managed to hold that slight edge of confidence that she had mastered for the classroom. She made sure she was sitting up straight in her desk chair. Good posture was important, she heard her mother's voice in her head say.

"I have to back in the city in the morning but I don't have any plans for tonight," he looked at her from across the small office.

She could see the corners of his mouth begin to rise to a smile. Harriet couldn't dislike that smile, it made her feel so much at ease that it scared her a little bit. There was a charm to the way he held his whole body that made her feel weak in the knees. She waited for him to say something else but he didn't. The ball, she thought, was in her court, he had made a soft return and she could hit wherever she wanted to. Tom's smile invited her to take that bold and brave step. Her heart was pumping in her chest as she leant forward in her chair.

"There is a delightful pub a block away that has an incredible menu. Can I take you to dinner, to say thank you for coming all the way here?" She resisted in giving him the usual out "unless you...[insert excuse here]". If he wanted to get out of it then he could find his own line. The words hung in the air between them as she picked up her phone from the desk and pushed it into her handbag that was sitting behind her desk. She always had a nice handbag behind her desk for moments where spontaneity required her to look less like a teacher and more like a person that exists outside of these worn and weary walls. It was a small thing but she felt different, less clunky and formal, with the small bag. She waited for his reply without trying to seem too hung on the idea. It was after the school day had finished and it was time she was getting out of her office anyway. She never liked staying alone in this echoey place.

"That sounds very pleasant. I just need to make a phone call. Can I meet you downstairs?"

"Of course." Harriet replied as she pushed herself out of the chair. Tom smiled and then turned and walked out of her office. She watched him leave and she could help but notice how his black pants wrapped around his legs in a smooth, tight fit. As he disappeared out of sight she felt herself start to panic. She had been pushing her previous fantasies and crushes on him to the bottom of her consciousness to save face and to seem professional but now she was going to go out with the man she had idolised for a long time. She had fallen in love with him since she first saw him in Miss Austen Regrets. A small part but those eyes, that voice, and that beautiful, curly, blonde hair made her weak in the knees and she had followed his career since. She was about to walk down the stairs to meet him for dinner. She couldn't help thinking about it like that, like she was about to have dinner with a man she had dreamed about more than a few times. Harriet looked around her office and tried to collect herself. She took a few breaths and then stood up. She checked herself in her small wall mirror. She looked like she had taught a full day of classes. She powdered her face gently and reapplied her mascara and lipstick. She looked and felt a little more put together and so picked up her bag and locked her office door behind her.

He was still on the phone when she exited the main building and so she hung back near the door as he paced across the forecourt.

"Luke, you don't have to worry about anything. I'll be back by 9. It's just dinner...I know what I said about her in the car, but after today it's like it's not the same person. You should see her...You know me. I can't help that kind of thing...Don't worry, I'll be discreet...I'll see you in the morning...Yes nine a.m. at the studio." Tom pulled the phone away from his ear and looked at it in his hand for a moment before sliding it back into his pants pocket.

Harriet was confused by the half conversation she had overheard but pushed it from her mind and she stepped towards him.

"Ready to go?" she asked tentatively.

"This pub you suggested, how far is it?"

"Close enough to walk to but far enough away that the boys don't go there." She smiled at him and tried to relax into the cool evening air.

"Teachers always think they know the secret spots," he laughed as they started out the front gate of the a school. "This place has changed since I was last here."

"It's still pretty new to me."

"How long have you been at the school?" Tom asked as she guided them around the bend towards the end of the street with the cute, rustic, and dark pub. It had become her place to escape since Julie had introduced her to it. The publican didn't let kids into the place which made the place far more appealing than others around the town.

"Just over a year."

"Why Eton?" He asked her, glancing sideways to look at her. Harriet felt herself blush as she met his gaze.

"Long story really, but mainly for the adventure. I wanted to get out and see the world. England is a handy place to do that sort of thing. Work during the week and escape on the weekends and holidays to foreign lands." She blatantly lied. Harriet knew the exact reason she chose Eton. And he was standing right next to her.


End file.
